Time Out
by duo7700
Summary: Two years after Phantom Planet, Danny has much more free time now that ghosts, for the most part, leave him be. That changes when a new, powerful ghost appears. Two-Shot. Partially beta'd by dragondancer123. Rated T for blood and implied perversion
1. Spurned Hero

**Thanks to dragondancer123, this is not complete crap. Her multitudes of comments made me go back and take a good look at how craptastic I was. Big thanks to dragondancer123. It took a year for me to get this up here.  
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**Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon, which is indirectly owned by Viacom International. Hoplite Hephzibah is property of me and is an imaginary series of childrens books and shows.**

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><p>Danny had more time to do anything and everything since the events surrounding the ectoranium asteroid a couple years ago. He had more time to do homework, more time for friends for the simple fact that fewer ghosts gravitated towards the city and all because Vlad Masters was no longer pulling the strings in Amity Park. The billboard on the outskirts of town that read, "Amity Park – A Safe Place to Live" was finally true once again.<p>

Danny was in his senior year of high school, and he was looking forward to the winter break coming up next week, as was Sam and Tucker. The trio was traversing their usual route to Casper High, a task that had become easier since the ghosts had stopped assaulting the town regularly. Tucker and Sam were hanging back several yards.

Danny let out a sigh as he stopped and looked behind him, "If you two want to suck face, you don't have to do it behind me, you know."

"Sorry Danny, it isn't on purpose, it just kind of, happens, you know?" Tucker had to quickened his pace to catch up; he was sporting a bite mark on his neck.

"I see you have another battle scar." Danny pointed at the mark as a large drop of rain hit Danny's nose causing him to flinch and eventually tumble forward.

"Sorry about that Tucker," Sam said, tossing him a compact as she stepped over Danny, "You might want to hide that, or your parents will freak out again." Sam offered her hand to Danny, "Need a hand?"

Danny took it with a smile, remembering the happy times when her soft hands were his. However, they agreed that it was puppy love, nothing more. They once again became good friends, their days of romance nothing but a distant memory. Tucker once said that their fleeting love was reminiscent of fanfiction for 'Hoplite Hephzibah'. Danny simply told him to get a life.

Once at school, they split up: Sam and Tucker sprinted towards English while Danny trudged to the track field to spend his free period. Danny had been coming here more and more to think about his future. He knew his dream of becoming an astronaut was nothing more than it was now: a fantastic dream. The military had approached him; roughly, three months after the Disasteroid passed through the Earth, and attempted to enlist him as a spy, a saboteur, even an assassin.

"I shouldn't have yelled," Danny thought, the rain pasting his bangs to his forehead as he stared at the uniformly grey sky.

He rethought his statement, "I shouldn't have wailed at them," he stated aloud.

The dull grey darkened as the drizzle turned into a steady downpour and a rare winter thunderclap boomed from miles behind him.

"I had my life planned out. I wanted to join the military. I wanted to get into NASA. I wanted to get into space…"

He remembered following Vlad after he had stolen the Infi-map.

"… The normal way." Danny looked at his phone and saw that first period was nearly over. Slowly, he lifted himself up and made his way to the side entrance of the school, all the while thinking, "Yet again, you manage to depress yourself."

Once under the awning, he became intangible and the water on his clothes dropped into a small puddle. He wove his way through the halls, stopping at the attendance office to check in before heading to another uneventful day at school.

Danny quickly went home, letting Sam and Tucker stroll through the park alone, "I see enough kissing and biting on the way to school," he thought as they parted ways. As Danny entered Fenton Works, the silence that greeted him meant one thing.

"Mom and dad are hunting ghosts, again." He glanced at the table by the door and saw the keys for the Fenton Family Assault Vehicle were missing, along with two rifles from the Fenton Gun Rack.

"Jazz is off interviewing ghosts for her history paper," Danny peered into the kitchen and saw all the hard copies of Jazz's research spread out on the dining table. "Her dedication to higher education is inspiring," Danny stated sarcastically, "She could've waited a few years and done a simpler thesis paper." He slipped into the kitchen, careful to avoid the mess spillover of parts and papers from the lab, and took a can of Coke Zero out of the fridge, "All I want is a normal family," Danny said as he took his homework out of his bag and placed it on the counter, "but no, that'd be good for me. I get the parents that hunt ghosts," Danny began making room on the table, "And a sister that wants to interview them so that she can have a perfect paper. Danny gently lifted the tab on the can, which hissed violently as it sprayed his shirt with its carbonated contents, "Dad. I know it was him that dropped it." With a sigh, he dampened a paper towel, wiped off his face and arms, and returned to the task. He placed his large English book upon the table, followed by a plain composition notebook and a rather nice pen given to him by the king of Sweden, "King Solheim, when you said I could call anytime for help, did you also mean family problems?"

Thirty minutes and one head slam into the table later, Danny glared at Lancer's homework with disgust, "I hope I never see 'The Canterbury Tales' again."

Danny rinsed out his empty can and tossed it into the recycling, then retired to into the living room.

He fell back onto the coach and flipped through the channels, finally settling on a rerun of 'Eureka', which he managed to watch about half of before he drifted off to sleep.

"Sweetie, it's time for dinner."

As Danny opened his eyes, he saw his mom heading towards the kitchen.

He followed his mother to the kitchen and saw that his mom had made chicken parmesan. He stopped at the doorway and took in the smell of the various Italian spices and tomatoes.

"Well, pull up a chair Danny before your father eats it all."

"Dad learned his lesson last Christmas when he ate too much pot roast," Jazz said, not looking up from her notebook.

"I could've kept eating if I had taken my Fento-bismuth," Jack before putting a large bite of chicken into his mouth.

"Now Jack, you know that even your stomach has its limits."

His retort was muffled by the food in his mouth.

Jazz scoffed and mumbled something about manners.

Maddie turned toward Jazz as she cut her chicken, "So, Jazz, how goes the research," she asked her, smiling. She put down her pen and looked up from her notebook for the first time since he came in. "It's better than I expected, actually. Most ghosts are more than happy to tell you their motivations. I actually have some really interesting news."

Jack turned his attention toward Jazz, who was positively beaming.

"According to our database, the most powerful ghost in the Ghost Zone is Pariah Dark," Jazz stated matter-of-factly, "However, many of the ghosts that we come in contact with on a daily basis aren't that old, and the oldest ghost that we've come in contact with was a few thousand years old.

"However, according to some of the ghosts I talked to, there are ghosts much older. They called them 'Primals'," Jazz said with much enthusiasm. Each of them is a personification of an ancient force, such as light or vengeance. Clockwork is a Primal, but because he jumps through time he's actually younger than most of the ghosts in the Ghost Zone."

Danny yawned. "Is this going anywhere Jazz?"

"Yes, Danny," Jazz said, turning to Danny, expressing some irritation, "It is. Supposedly, the Primals had their own Pariah Dark," Jazz paused as she looked at her notes, "He was named Ruin, he's the Primal of Chaos and is responsible for bringing ruin to the Ghost Zone. Legends say that, before he started his reign of terror, the Ghost Zone looked very similar to Earth."

Maddie looked at the map of the Ghost Zone on the kitchen wall, "Really? That's rather hard to imagine."

Jack simply had a disgusted look on his face. The very idea of the ghost zone resembling Earth obviously bothered him.

"The other Primals constructed the Prison of Never-ending Creation deep within the Ghost Zone, where no ghost dares to go. Countless years later, the Primals feared that Ruin had managed to release some of his essence in the form of Pariah Dark, and they trapped him in the Tomb of Forever Sleep."

"Fascinating Jazz," Danny said, eyes drooping as his head rested on his hand, "You actually managed to keep dad's attention and he forgot there was food on his plate."

"I still have food," Jack said excitedly as he looked at his plate, "Darn it. My chicken parmesan is cold now."

Danny threw himself on his bed, where he lay staring at the ceiling for several hours until he fell asleep until there was a soft knocking at his door.

"Danny?" Even when half-awake, Danny recognized that it was the concerned voice of his sister. A grunt escaped his mouth, which Jazz interpreted as "Come in."

Jazz tiptoed across the dark floor of his room and sat on the edge of his bed, "You did listen to what I said at dinner, right?" Her voice was low, calm. Danny sat up.

"I heard."

Danny saw Jazz's hair fly wildly in the dim light filtering in through the window as she shook her head, "I know you heard, I asked if you listened," her concern was evermore present.

Danny let out a small scoff. They sat in silence for several minutes.

"Danny…" she paused, looking for the correct words, "The Primals are powerful. Clockwork, if he wanted to, could make it so you were never born. They embody primal forces and abstract concepts which the living cannot grasp." Jazz paused, waiting for Danny, who seemed to be listening intently, "If you meet any Primal, just focus on running away from it."

"I've beat the unbeatable before Jazz."

She leaned in and hugged Danny, "Please, Danny, I only have one little brother. Just run." Jazz stood up and tiptoed her way back to her room.

Danny slid back down into his bed. He briefly meditated on what his sister had said before he once again fell asleep.

That morning rolled around and Danny saw the city was carpeted in a light dusting of snow, which was still steadily falling. His first thought of "No school" quickly melted away, but was quickly replaced by, "Early release?" as heavier snow began to fall. He slipped off his boxers, tossing them carelessly onto the floor next to his DVD of "Humpty Dumpty Rocks Amity Park" and waltzed into the shower, emerging several minutes later to finish his morning routine.

Danny slinked into the kitchen with a yawn that only vaguely sounded like, "Morning mom."

Danny's mom, however, had learned to decipher the language of sleep deprived teenagers, "Good morning Danny, I made you some Fenton Flapjacks."

Danny rolled his eyes as his stomach lurched and thought, "Dad really needs to stop naming things." Then his stomach changed its mind with a loud growl.

Danny shoved two in his mouth. As he swallowed, he swung his backpack onto his shoulder and crammed two more in his mouth, yelled out a muffled "'fanks", and zipped through the front door.

He made it school with more than enough time to spare. Upon arrival, he learned that there was a one-hour delay. School did not start class for another hour and a half, adding an additional thirty minutes for his nonexistent first period class.

The thought of an undefeatable enemy floated through his mind as he stared at the white winter sky.

"I've fought the undefeatable before," he said to himself.

A voice deep within his head chimed in, "Pure, unadulterated luck."

It was true, mostly at least. Even when he became the hero of both the Ghost Zone and Earth by managing to unite all ghosts for a common goal, even if it was for a few minutes, it was mere luck that they didn't all kill him.

And that he managed perform a ghostly wail on his future self was once again, luck.

Then he remembered his fights with Technus and Skulker, "Once upon a time, I thought they were undefeatable."

The voice once again had a rebuttal, "How many times was it Sam or Tucker that helped you?"

Danny thought of Skulker's upgrade using Tucker's PDA, to cede to Danny's schedule and Technus' near invasion of cyberspace, only to be lost in 'Level 0' thanks to Sam's gaming skills.

"I'd be doomed unless I was with Tucker and Sam and we were all covered in four leaf clovers, upside down horseshoes and had lucky pennies in our shoes."

Danny opened his eyes and sat up, causing the buildup of snow on his face to fall off, "About an inch." He shook his head to rid himself of more snow, and checked his phone for the time, "Thirty min-"

An all too familiar icy gasp escaped from him. He picked up his cell phone and called the school, "Turn on the ghost shield."

He shoved the phone back in his pocket as the eerie green of the school's ghost shield lit up the school yard and he yelled, "I'm going ghost!"

Danny flew around the perimeter of the school, even going into the woods behind it, but thirty minutes later, found nothing.

Danny landed just outside the shield and changed back as Valerie Gray crashed through the doors, her helmet and rifle in her hands.

"False alarm Val, it scurried away... you know, assuming it can scurry."

"Damn it," Valerie yelled as she pressed button on her wrist, causing the suit to retract into her backpack.

Danny slowly walked back in with Valerie who departed for the second period class as Danny made a beeline for the Principal's office.

Danny had many experiences within Principal Ishiyamas office, mostly unpleasant ones involving parents and sheets of paper signed by Mr. Lancer declaring how "inattentive" Danny was. As of late, he rarely ventured there, and then it was normally voluntary visits.

Principal Ishiyama sighed as she stood up from behind her cherry wood desk, "I wish your father would let me disable the shield. The power bill is really going to sky rocket once you graduate."

"You know my dad, the right combination of genius and paranoid. He probably thinks you could be a ghost in disguise."

Ishiyama forced a half-smile, "You're probably right." She still remembered Penelope Spectra, an event which she blames on herself.

Danny turned to a metal panel on the wall displaying the "Fent-ech" logo. and pressed a large red button, "Voice identification and password," the recording of my mother's voice sounded. "Daniel James Fenton, code: Vlad Masters is One Seriously Crazed-Up Fruit Loop."

The speaker in the panel responded, "Voice print and access code confirmed as Daniel Fenton. Ghost shield disabled."

Danny glanced at the large generic school wall clock, "I need to get to class, sorry about the false alarm."

"Better safe than sorry," Ishiyama called out after him.

Danny bolted out the office and phased through a classroom, then fell down into his own.

Mr. Lancer turned to the door, "So glad you could join us Mr. Fenton," Lancer, while gracious for the Fenton's protection against ghost related interruptions, grew weary over the years of Daniel being late, with a sigh he turned back to the board, "Page 417, Fenton, George Bernard Shaw's 'Pygmalion'."

Danny flipped to the page, and of course, thirty minutes later, he was the one who called upon to answer a question.

Calmly, Mr. Lancer enquired, "Daniel, why did Colonel Mustard kill Mrs. Peacock in the library with the revolver?"

Daniel stammered, "I, uh…"

"That will do, Mr. Fenton," Daniel knew immediately that it was not even a real question as a sadistic smile appeared on Lancer's face, "This is Pygmalion, not Clue. If you had been paying attention, you would have realized that."

The class laughed, "See me, once again, after school." He maintained his calm tone throughout, something Daniel never liked about Mr. Lancer. He knew there was disappointment, but Mr. Lancer hid it. His eyes betrayed him.

Danny let his head fall onto his book with a muffled thump, letting the class move along without him, catching bits and pieces of information, enough to get a low "D" on the test, focusing instead on the fact that Lancer has made a fool of him at least once a week for one-hundred and thirty-six weeks. As the bell rang, Danny remained with his head down, his classmates shuffling by. A rustling sheet of paper confirmed why he was to stay behind.

Danny walked home as slowly as he could manage. He wanted to hear the crunch of the snow beneath his feet, the sound of the cars rushing by in the slush. He wanted to remove the words, "Detention and Saturday school for a month," from his mind. He held the pink sheet of paper up again: "Apathetic in class" and "In danger of failing" stood out among the many statements in the note to his parents. At the bottom was Lancer's large signature, and next to it, "D. Fenton". He along with Sam and Tucker signed scores of them in freshman year during one of their many detentions. Lancer seemed to think it would save time in the long run.

Danny put his back to a retaining wall and slid down, dropping his backpack beneath to provide a barrier between him and the slush. When he hit the bag, he let out a sigh.

"I lost my drive…" He thought as he glanced at the referral again, "I'm just going through the motions."

Danny carefully folded the sheet of paper and put it into his pocket, "I wanted to do well in school… I was until they shattered my dreams."

Two generals and an admiral approach Danny in the middle of the desert. It is a class biology field trip and Danny had slipped away to use the restroom. His class is nowhere in sight.

Danny heard "Admiral" and began ignoring him. He did catch something about sabotage.

General Three Star followed, "The Marines could use you, son," he paused to light his cigarette, drawing an annoyed look from General Four Star, "You could save lives. Protect your country from threats abroad, living and dead." Three Star took a long drag from his cigarette, "Better it be foreign blood or ectoplasm than American blood."

Danny had to admit, that speech tugged at his heartstrings. However, he preferred no blood. He also noticed the wording, "foreign blood OR ectoplasm" and the failure to include American ectoplasm.

General Four Star smiled. He had seen her in Antarctica, "Air Force General Leslie Anne Harris," she said as she shook his hand. I have followed your exploits since you first appeared in Homeland Security Briefings. Personally," she smiled impishly, "I'd like to see you in the sky training pilots some of your more…" She struggled to find the word, "Practical flying maneuvers."

Danny grinned, "Is there a chance I could become an astronaut if I…"

She was shaking her head, but as she opened her mouth to speak, Three Star opened his.

"Are you stupid boy?"

"Stupid?" Danny thought.

"NASA has high standards. You think you could even pass their little physical exam? You're a half dead freak of nature!"

"I'm not a…" Danny whispered, barely audible to him.

"What's that boy?" Three stars stepped closer.

The acrid odor of cigarette smoke hit Danny as he yelled, "I'm not a freak!"

At least it should have been yelling. Danny realized he had unleashed his Ghostly Wail on the trio.

The trip ended due to spectral activity. The next day a government legal team served him with a restraining order stating, "Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom may not come within 500 yards of any federal building." They did not leave until he acknowledged the fact he could not apply for a security clearance either.

Danny sighed once more; his dreams were nothing more than gently smoldering embers. He knew he should've flunked out far before this, he knew he was getting 'sympathy grades' from many teachers, but they, like Lancer, noticed that he stopped caring. He knew that they had realized that, more than anything, school was a social experience than a learning one.

He groaned at that thought, "That makes me sound like Paulina." He sat down for a few more minutes before picking up his backpack and continuing on home.

Fenton Works loomed in front of Danny, its brick face and large neon sign looking more foreboding than inviting. His parents seemed to expect more from him since the ghosts had become less of a problem. Once on the stoop of Fenton Works he became intangible to rid himself of the accumulated snow.

Apprehensively, he shouted, "Mom, Dad?"

He carefully walked into the kitchen to check the lab when a note on the refrigerator door caught his eye:

"Danny:

Your father and I are filling for Professor Muthannaat at the Ecto-Expo as the keynote speakers. We will check in every night and should be back in week.

Love,

Mom and Dad"

Danny saw another note under it,

"Danny,

In the Ghost Zone, be home at six or seven with pizza. If you need anything, call me on the Fenton Phones from the lab.

Jazz"

Danny sighed, "I'm once again alone for the evening." He poured himself a glass of ginger ale and began watching "John Waters: This Filthy World" on Netflix.

Eventually Jazz returned, though it was closer to ten, with two of the promised pizzas. She regaled Danny with boring stories of her interviews with ghosts, either not noticing or not caring that he was not paying attention.

"Mom and dad called me as they were leaving" Jazz said as she grabbed a slice of pizza of her veggie pizza, "They said the ghost shield was activated at the school."

Danny was once again aware of his sister, "Yeah, false alarm. Never saw the ghost. It was probably just the cold." Danny realized at once, it was not one of his better lies.

Jazz eyed him curiously, "You know the difference between the two. Was it Skulker?"

Danny shook his head, "No, Guys in White captured him." He recalled them snatching the Thermos from him moments after he Sam and Tucker had captured Skulker, causing his eyes to turn an acid green.

"I remember now," Jazz said as she saw that Danny was clearly angry, "Most ghosts that hate you are rather overt. Any ideas?"

"Honestly Jazz? I don't really care." Danny excused himself and washed his hands, "Good night, Jazz."

Danny did his morning routine once again, substituting Fent-o's ("Did dad really have to paste a picture of himself on the Cheerios box?") for Fenton Flapjacks. He stepped outside and saw that a heavy snow had blanketed the streets. He checked his phone to see if the schools were open, "Two hour delay?"

He plowed his way to school, knowing that he had nothing better to do on the last day before winter break.

Danny once again sat on the bleachers of the track field. However, today, his mind was blank, until he realized that it was only four days until Christmas.

A scowl marred his face, "The yearly fight."

Despite the Ghost Writer's help in the matter, his parents still fought until Christmas morning, but resumed in the afternoon, and fought until 12:00 am on the twenty-sixth.

Danny thought of ways he could try to keep his parents from avoiding the fight.

Attempting to convince his dad that Santa Clause was nothing more than a character from a children's story made in the 1800's was at the top of his list.

Overshadowing and chloroform had tied for second place.

As Danny sank into a Grinch-ly stupor, his ghost sense brought him back to reality. As he sat, bolt upright, and went ghost, one thought came to mind:

"What the hell?"

The scenery surrounding the school, which had changed little in his lifetime, let alone his high school career, was changing before his very eyes. The trees decayed, the metal oxidized, the concrete simply crumbled. He spun around; it was spreading towards the school. No enemy meant nothing to fight. Nothing to fight meant…

"Run," He whispered to himself. He aimed himself at Ishiyamas office and flew through the wall, startling Principal as he slammed into her wall of accolades and shouted, "Shield on."

Danny blacked out long enough for him to revert to his human half and for Kwan and Valerie to try to bring him to the nurse. He phased out of their grasp, "Val, has anything else happened?"

Valerie shook her head, "No, unless you want to count the school grounds turning into a cemetery."

Danny went to the nearest window, which had small cracks running through it, Valerie explained, "Whatever decayed everything hit the school before the ghost shield had fully initialized, the first floor has minor damage, all cosmetic."

Danny opened the window, and then used his slender frame to slip between the small gap twixt the window and wall. It was indeed a cemetery, an old one. He reached behind the window, "Val, binoculars," he felt the binoculars in his hand a minute later.

He looked at the tombstones, "Edward Hepburn, 1602-1628. Marie Becart, 1782- 1799. Chu Hong Lian, 134 BCE- 109 BCE." Danny looked over what may well be the battlefield: various ruined mausoleums, as well as building of various styles and in varying stages of degradation. He swept further to his right and rested his eyes upon an unsettling sight, "Daniel Fenton…" he could bring himself to say the date.

Hours passed, the snow fell harder, bestowing a look of innocence upon the decayed scenery that, a day before, stood tall and proud. Danny watched as a sycamore in front of the school decayed to the point where it was unable to support its own weight and crashed into the lunch tables, shattering the tree, but leaving the tables relatively undamaged.

"There goes another tree," Danny said, "I liked that one."

Valerie shot him a dirty look, "We're surrounded by the enemy, Fenton. Who cares about trees?"

An hour later, the rest of the Fenton Family arrived. As Danny stepped out of the building to greet them, a figure rose out of the ground.

Dan.

Danny was shocked, "You… you never happened…"

"Do not be an idiot, boy," The shadowy figure spat out, "I am a being with no form. If you were in my place, would you not choose a form as fearsome as this?"

Danny had defeated his future-self, so he calmed down considerably, "So, who are you then?"

"I am Ruin," he said as small grin spread across his face, "And I have located the rest of my audience."

With a wave of his hand, the ghost shield overloaded, and the school dissolved away, revealing the students in the bomb shelter. Danny quickly went ghost.

With another wave, the students levitated and were all forced into seating as a coliseum materialized. As ghosts appeared holding video cameras, Ruin yelled out, "If anyone tries to escape before this evening's festivities have concluded, alive or dead, you shall all become a puddle of slime."

Ruin perused the audience, "Tonight is a special night. I shall not tell you why, that would spoil the surprise. Suffice it to say," Ruin continued, looking positively giddy, "It is a trick that I have not done in centuries and countless millennia since I have done it personally. The entire world will be fortunate enough to bear witness."

Ruin drifted before Danny "Let us begin, shall we?

The echo of a memory before Danny disappeared; in his place stood a small girl in a pink, frilly dress, "Do you remember me, Inviso-Bill? I ran across the street to get your autograph and…"

Danny had begun sobbing silently, "…got hit by a bus."

"You could've have saved me," Danny stared into her large brown eyes, barely visible through her auburn bangs. "You should've saved me. Instead, you wanted to show off. You wanted to make the bus intangible. But the bus…"

"…went right through me."

Vlad Masters appeared before him wearing his usual black suit and vicious smile, "As you very well know, Daniel, it was you that caused a surge in ghosts at Amity Park, not just your idiot father and his ghost portal or me sending ghosts after him."

"I know."

"You put people in danger so you could be special and play the hero; so you could impress some dark, depressing harlot and some perverted nerd. You know you should've stopped when you became the biggest freak show of two worlds."

"I-"

"Not to mention the billions spent on repairs and repeated attempts to capture you at the local, state and federal level! Interpol went so far as to put you on their most wanted list. Instead, you went on fighting, forcing taxpayers to spend a total of 67 billion dollars and bringing the total number of deaths to eleven! Eleven, Daniel! In no way is that acceptable," He closed the distance between himself and Danny so that they were nose to nose, "Not even to me."

Danni appeared, "Eleven deaths isn't acceptable to me either, Danny. The eleventh is not anywhere close to acceptable. I asked for your help. I screamed. My dad, your uncle, died because you…"

Danny mumbled something.

"I'm sorry? I couldn't hear you," She put a cupped hand to her ear.

"I shot him," he whispered, his throat dry.

"You shot my dad with pure ectoplasm. You said that you had learned how to make things intangible at a distance, Danny. You should have just let him be. I wish you never existed."

Danni disappeared, as Danny sobbed, "No more…"

The unwilling observers were also crying, his family and friends, along with a majority of the football and hockey teams were attempting to storm the pit, but an invisible wall of force blocked their path. Eventually, Sam dropped down to her knees, followed in time by the rest of his friends and family until his dad was alone, pounding stupidly at the invisible wall.

"I think it is time," Ruin whispered to Danny, almost lovingly, "to end this."

A man in a black robe with a mossy stone sword bearing Danny's full name and date of birth faded into being, "Last words?"

"No more, no more…" Danny muttered, head shaking and eyes closed, unaware of any voices beyond the eleven in his head.

Ruin raised an unseen eyebrow and sneered, "Indeed."

Ruin slid the sword through Danny's chest with the greatest of ease.

Several screams echoed throughout Amity Park as the white snow turned green and, as Danny turned back into a human, scarlet.


	2. The Glorious Dead

I don't really remember what happened, to be perfectly honest. I remember pain. Seems like that is pretty crappy thing to remember. Couldn't I have at least remembered my final thoughts? It simply... Sucks. That is the only word I can think of to describe it. Actually, it blows. Hard.

It's starting.

"We are here to honor the memory of Daniel James Fenton," the chubby priest said from his podium, "Son of Jack and Maddie Fenton, daughter of Jazz Fenton, cousin of Danielle, and hero of all." The priest gestured at the massive crowd blocking the streets of the small city of Amity Park. A strange, uncomfortable look appeared on his face as he waved a hand in the direction of a bright emerald glow, "As well as something different to every ghost."

That's amusing, but true. Some ghosts hated me, some liked me, or at least they tolerated my existence. Most had no opinion, though. It's not like I've met every ghost out there. I'm impressed at the turn out. All the ghosts are ones I... Is that the Wisconsin Dairy King? Unexpected. The Box Ghost is a pallbearer, hilarious. I'm surprised that he let it go, to be perfectly honest. Skulker looks rather depressed... And disappointed at not being able to hunt his favorite halfa. Perhaps he'll start hunting Vlad? Ember simply looks bored, she keeps pulling on Skulker's arm.

I'm missing it.

"... From the Book of Wisdom:

The just man, though he die early,

shall be at rest.

For the age that is honorable comes not

with the passing of time,

nor can it be measured in terms of years.

Rather, understanding is the hoary crown for men,

and an unsullied life, the attainment of old age.

He who pleased God was loved;

he who lived among s..."

Just some Bible stuff, always put me right to sleep when dad read it to me as a kid. Where was I again? Oh, I see Clockwork. He just said time out.

Clockwork, late to the somber event, floated towards Danny's spot above the casket, "Hello, Daniel."

"Hi, Clockwork," I said as I raised a hand in hello, "Why aren't the others talking to me?"

Clockwork let a small smile creep on to his face, "You're a new ghost, you haven't got a tangible form yet," Clockwork stated matter-of-factly and, to prove his point, he put a young, withered hand through my torso.

"How can you see me then?"

"If I couldn't keep an eye on the incorporeal, I would have some difficulty keeping an eye on the time stream," he let out a small chuckle. "Never fear, seeing as you already know how to keep a corporeal form, it is simply a matter of gathering ambient ectoplasm once you're in the Ghost Zone."

Seriously? Doesn't he know that, "I can't move." I demonstrated by trying to fly down the street, but got no further than ten feet before I felt a tug on my ghostly tail.

Clockwork waved his hand in dismissal, "That passes within a week. Most ghosts are able to leave after their funeral concludes."

I suddenly felt sad as the finality set in, "What... am I going to miss?"

Clockwork sighed, "I can't tell you, Daniel." He let a barely noticeable smile creep onto his face, "But, I assure you, it won't be long before you can keep an eye on your family and friends."

Clockwork paused a moment, "I'm... sorry. It was difficult to allow this. I desperately wanted to warn you but..." Clockwork trailed off, unable to find the words, "Take solace in the fact that he was successfully eliminated." I watched Clockwork as he drifted into the crowd of ghosts and I heard a faint, "Time in."

On the far side of the funeral, lurking behind a tree, I saw Vlad. I moved closer to him, about twenty feet. I heard him muttering to himself, tears streaming down his face, "I'm sorry, Daniel. I made your life a living hell... May your next life be better... You deserved better." I heard sobs as he transformed, Plasmius looked different, his hair white disheveled, his eyes a deep, unnatural blue. I yelled "I forgive you", though it barely came out as a whisper. Still, he looked in my direction, a smile redirecting the two streams of tears on his face. He seemed to mouth, "thank-you" before turning intangible and flying away. I turned back and saw the funeral had come to a close, my casket was lowered and people had started to disperse. My family and friends staying seated, staring at the hole before my tombstone, as though they expected me to phase through it and say hi. They stayed until the groundskeeper began shoveling the dirt onto my corpse's subterranean home.

I wanted to. Tell them I'm okay, that is. But, what I did was nothing. I didn't want them to think I became a ghost. I wanted to think I had truly died and, I don't know, gone to heaven. I wanted them to have closure.

Clockwork was right, as I was being buried I felt the invisible tether dissipate and I was soon able to fly into my former room, one last time. I tried to get the Infi-map, which passed right through my hand, and instead went through the Ghost Portal. I felt drawn to a door. It wasn't long until I knew why.

Fenton Works was inside. Not the real one, obviously. I actually looked for my family. I guess this whole "death" thing hasn't fully set in yet. My parent's basement lab is nothing more than an empty room. Small details that I recall aren't there, or at least they are drastically different.

My room is amazing, save for the Ember McLaine CDs that had replaced my Humpty Dumpty CDs. My ceiling is a view of the night sky. The Earth's night sky. I checked my Astronomy book and it's accurate. Oh, and it's clean. Everything seems to appear in its proper place when I'm done with it.

Oh, and I have my favorite shirt and jeans. Awesome, right?

The biggest difference around my lair, never thought I'd say that, is the changes that occur according to my mood. When I'm happy, it tends to look normal, perhaps brighter. On the flip side, when I'm depressed, the lights dim and the walls change to a cooler blue. My walls were blue right? I think they were.

I gained my corporeal form about four or five months ago. I traveled home. It was Mother's Day. I left my mom a bouquet of roses on the kitchen table. I didn't sign it. I took the Infi-Map from my room. It was covered in dust. Frostbite would want it back, I think.

Sam and Tucker were walking through the park the other day.

I'm afraid to tell them I'm still here.

It's been... I'm not sure how long. Since I've been to Earth, I mean.

It's hard to keep track of time. Time seems to flow differently in my lair.

I know that Jazz lives in Washington D.C. now. I saw her here not too long ago. Here in the Ghost Zone, I mean.

She helped to broker a peace treaty between our two worlds. No more haunting for my former enemies.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I'm staring at Jazz doing somethi... do I hear carolers? Is it already Christmas time?

I speed towards the window of Jazz's office, intangible of course, to peek at her desk calendar.

It's the 19th? The year is covered by a stack of papers. I manage to think before the door opens.

Dani?

She paused for a moment, staring at the spot where I was. For a moment, I thought she saw me, but she shrugged and headed towards Jazz.

"Some more papers to sign. Mr. Moore says they can wait for a few weeks."

Jazz finally looked up from her work, "Good. I just finished the ones he gave me earlier. Up for a quick bite before our flight home?"

"I thought you'd forgotten food existed," Dani joked.

Jazz let out a soft chuckle, "Nope, just busy." Jazz got up and grabbed the papers, then sat them neatly into her inbox.

"Let's go."

A frown marred my face as I glanced at the calendar again. I died on this day 15 years ago.

At least they aren't sad anymore.

I went to Sam and Tucker's house on Christmas Eve. Tucker the carnivore was eating a vegan meal. Seems as though Sam finally wore him down. Their kids had grown quite a bit since I last saw them a couple... No, it wasn't. Was it?

I can't keep track of time in the Ghost Zone.

I want to go home, my old home, at least, to see my parents. I don't remember where it is. The ghost portal is in the Smithsonian now, so that's no help to me. Vlad's was dismantled shortly after my birthday. No, it was after... The thing happened... Disasteroid.

I've been denying it. I'm losing my memories. I write down everything important. Some memories have already been lost; I don't remember my first kiss, my tenth birthday, the accident that turned me into a halfa. I remember that the events occurred, but not the event itself.

Slowly, I'm remembering my death. I remember the sword piercing my chest. I remember blood and ectoplasm, congealing into a reddish-brown puddle resting atop the downy field of soft snow. I remember the pain that quickly disappeared into relief as I inched closer to the ground, closer to death.

I don't want to remember it.

I want nothing more than it all to be a dream.

It's been a couple centuries since I died, according to Clockwork. I've been satiating my desire to play the hero in the human world, though I'm not sure why I have the desire. Clockwork says all ghosts motivations come from their last thoughts. Does that mean I was a good person before I died? I recall my final thoughts, thinking I wouldn't be there to save two people in hazmat suits, a woman with red hair, a girl with black hair and violet eyes and a black guy with his face buried in a PDA. This memory is a couple centuries old, so I doubt I could save them.

But I can save their descendants. I've been looking for pictures of them in libraries. I learned the raven-haired girl became a white haired old woman with soft, lilac eyes. The black guy was obviously her husband, his PDA on his arm. Who'd want to embed something in their skin?

They had three kids, two boys and a girl. They all got married and had girls.

I'm not sure after that. The paper records go that far, but no further. Did they get married? Did they keep the family name or take the name of their husbands? I'll find them. Perhaps Skulker can help me track them down.

The people in hazmat suits seemed to have disappeared almost entirely. I found one picture in a newspaper. The caption read, "Local couple Maddie and Jack Fenton donate their Ghost Portal to the Smithsonian." They built that permanent portal? I love that thing. Easier than the Infi-map, at least seeing as portal appears right outside my door.

The red-haired woman was an Ambassador to the Ghost Zone. Married and divorced, one child, premature, died within a week.

I'll send Skulker my research. In the mean time, there are plenty of other people to save. Wait... I remember her.

The woman with red hair. She was Jazz Fenton. Was she my sister? Someone else worked for... Danielle!

I scoured the Ghost Zone for her. She was my cousin, I think. I found her in a door that looked very much like my own. It was right next to mine in fact. How have I not noticed that before?

I knocked and Danielle, sporting white hair and similar clothing to my own, answered, and upon seeing my face, began crying. Happily, I think.

"Danny..." she embraced me in a tight hug. Several minutes or millenia later, she let go. "How long has it been?"

"A couple centuries, I think." I frown, "What were we to each other?"

She smiles, "I was your adopted cousin, created by Plasmius in his lab."

Plasmius. The name echoed in my head. I hated him? No, I distinctly remembered forgiving him. "Is he here?" I asked her, unsure of what I wanted the answer to be.

"I haven't seen him."

"I..." I paused, unsure if I should say it aloud, "I forgave him. At my funeral."

"I forgave him at his."

It's been a while since we sat down at her kitchen table. Besides the color scheme, it was my lair exactly.

Finally, she broke the silence, "You're forgetting too?"

I nodded.

"I was told that we all forget our human lives. Some recall their final thoughts, but most simply remember their first moments as a ghost."

"I remember my death," I murmured, "It's awful. Pain, then nothing. The image of people I cared about fading away."

Danielle opened up a cabinet and retrieved a large book, "I keep my memories in here."

I'm sure my face looked rather stupid. "I did that too. I forgot about it." I raced out her door and into my lair, grabbing the book that I had secreted under my bed, countless years ago.

We compared notes both of us occasionally adding notes to illustrations or illustrations to notes. We didn't stop until the Christmas truce. Clockwork shot me a smile, he mouthed something, but Ember and Skulker kept waltzing in the way.

* * *

><p><strong>Just my original take on how being a ghost works. I think I've done the time aspect of it before, but the memories thing is different. I just kind of think that, since ghosts are obsessed with 'X' and little else, they forgot their human lives, not obsessing over how their family is doing.<strong> Please review if you enjoyed it!


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